Ascending Aortic Aneurysm / My Terrifying Story

My Terrifying Story

My journey began with researching to find the best surgeon for my ascending aortic aneurysm surgery. The aneurysm had grown to 5 cm, and since I have Parkinson's disease, delaying surgery could have made my recovery much harder.
After careful consideration, I chose a highly skilled and successful surgeon in Orange County. My surgery was scheduled for December 3. The operation lasted about eight hours. The aneurysm in my ascending aorta was replaced with specific tubes, and thankfully, my bicuspid aortic valve didn’t need replacement, which reduced the surgery time by three hours. The surgeon told my family the operation was a success.
On December 5, it was time to remove my drainage tubes. A physician assistant came to my room and asked me to take deep breaths as she removed the tubes. The first two were painful but manageable. However, when she pulled out the third tube, the pain was unbearable.
I started tossing and turning, struggling to find a comfortable position. After open-heart surgery, you can't use your arms to lift yourself, and my Parkinson’s disease made movement even more difficult. I called the nurses repeatedly, explaining that the pain was excruciating. They assured me it was normal.
Suddenly, I noticed my stomach felt wet. When I lifted the sheet, I saw blood covering my stomach. Alarmed, I called the nurse again. Her assistant came, casually wiped the blood, and shockingly asked, “Are you still on your period?” I cried out, explaining that I was 61 years old, and the blood was coming from the surgical holes in my stomach.
As time passed, my breathing became shallow, and I felt severe pain in my upper left shoulder and back. Thankfully, my sister was with me. She ran to the nurses' station, yelling for help. A nurse finally came and, seeing my blue lips and difficulty breathing, called a "Code Blue."
My surgeon wasn’t available, but the on-call surgeon, an anesthesiologist, and other medical staff rushed to my room. A radiologist performed an echocardiogram and found blood filling the sac around my heart, preventing it from pumping. I was experiencing tamponade, a life threatening condition.
They quickly moved me back to the operating room. I was fully awake and aware of everything as they prepared for surgery. Unlike the first time, I hadn’t fasted, nor was I sedated before being taken into the operatin
About three hours later, I woke up in the recovery room with tubes in my stomach, gagging and vomiting. My family and friends watched from behind a window, relieved to see me alive.
The surgeon whispered, “You have a new birthday—December 5, 2024. You were reborn.” They told me I had been gone for a few seconds.
Reflecting on this terrifying experience, I focus on the positive: I survived. If I hadn’t been in the hospital when the tamponade occurred, I might not be here today. Life is fragile—a fine line between life and death.
I’m incredibly grateful for the quick action of the medical team that saved my life. Neil Armstrong, the astronaut who was the first person to walk on the moon, died from the same condition, tamponade. Instead of taking him back to the operating room, they took him for a CT scan for further evaluation, and he passed away.
Although my recovery is very slow & challenging after my chest being opened twice within two days; I guess I’m extremely lucky to still be here to share my story!
Thank you.